Friday, 13 December 2013

Muscles and fond memories. Live review of Jamie Lenman at The Garage

Jamie Lenman *****
Castrovalva ***1/2**
Kill Chaos *****

The Garage, Islington, Tuesday 10th December 2013

Must be the sherry, but so moved by Mr Jamie Lenman’s performance at The Garage, I’ve suicidally decided to write up tonight’s astonishing show in rhyme. Obviously bad rhyme. But rhyme. Must be a bigger idiot than I thought.

Kill Chaos *****

A raw and growly trio
Soaked in bile and brio.
Thee lads who play with passion
And in a chuggy, noisy fashion.

In truth they’re nothing new
But they know a thing or two
About progressions, beats and tunes;
And they dance around like loons.

All-in-all a damned fine set
Of energy and vigour
And when Chris Coulter joins them
Their sound gets much, much bigger.

So they’re not going to change the world,
But they raise a fair old grin.
Get toes a tapping, hands  a clapping
And that’s a bloody good place to begin.

Castrovalva ***1/2**

Noise rock with a spacey edge.
The singer’s hair looks like a hedge.
They must smoke bongs and take a drink
This trippy noise it makes one think.

All fierce and Methed it comes across
Like some weird hadean cross
Somewhere between Coheed and Tomassi
With a big hairy bloke but no sexy lassie.

With a scream and a voice like the Doctor’s K9
The thunderous noise far from benign
This tortured din comes right from the gut
But truth be told, it’s off its fucking nut.

Discomfort oozes from every pore
As the level never drops leaving ears (and cocks) raw
The Cher Vocoder raises an eyebrow
But you know what?

….It works.


Jamie Lenman *****

Holy fuck
And holy crap
What a night has been conjoured
By this renaissance chap.

A banjo strum one minute, molten metal the next
The mix so heady, bizarre and complex.
This chap all foppish, rocks everyone’s boat
And raises the roof, in his magician’s waistcoat.

There are songs fierce and fizzy
Most new, but some old
The pit drools and gets busy
As sideways stories are told.

A Shotgun House here and a broken heart there
Emotions are febrile and psyches laid bare.
There’s an unholy balance of hard rock, so raw
With choirs singin’ shanties and folk sounds of yore.

The effect is astonishing; agog jaws hitting floors
With old favourites sung back - every word as a roar.
This magic is truly unique and so smart
Cleverly ripping out guts while massaging the heart.

As near to perfection as live music can be
Mr Lenman: a true genius and tonight all agree
Quite tearful and mangled with nerve endings exposed
Replete, we all head onto Holloway Road.

A night that forever will live fond in the mind
A genius. A scholar. A true one of a kind.
Mr Lenman has set the bar so unreasonably high.
There won’t be many a show better ‘til the day that I die.

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